Player Player, I Played Your Game,
Once Again I Lay Limp And Lame,
With A Stepped On Heart,
Which Was Caught And Tamed,
Dry And Brittle--It Waits For Rain

Player Player, You Found Me Fooled,
Helpless I Slipped Under Your Rule,
My Firey Soul,
Was Darastically Cooled,
Why Oh Why Heart Do You Fall For The Tools?

Player Player, Do You Think I Am Easy,
Like A Warm Summer Day's Cool And Breezy,
Boy, I Really Ain't So ******,
If Only You Tried To Find The Real Me

The Rain Streaked Window,
Is Chilled From The Damp Spring Air,
The World Outside--Grey

                        The Pavement Is Soaked,
                 Blackened It Smells Of The Rain,
                  The Leaves Had Turned Green

                                                   Flowers Sip Cautious,
                                   Drinking The Water Of Spring,
                                    Quenching The World's Thirst

The Crisp Morning Dew,
Perches Upon My Pale Lips,
As I Smile Sweet

                     The Day Is A Ripe Green,
                 The Sky The Richest Of Blues,
                       As The Birds Fly Free

                                           The Tulips Have Bloomed,
                          And The Leaves Have Been Reborn,
                                                    The World Flourishes

The Great Creator Sat, Smiling Solemnly,
As He Molded A Soul From River Clay,
He Took In A Deep Breath As He Plucked A Ray,
From The Sun Nearest To Our World,
He Gently Placed It Inside The Earthenware,
Giving It Life--Giving It A Smile

The Great Creator Sat, Pondering It's Housing,
The Soul Sparkled As It Awaited It's Home,
Awaited It's Time To Prosper,
The Great One Took Two Feathers From The Bird,
Who Calls, "Jay", And Placed Those Pale Blue
Feathers Upon The Irises The Soul Would Wear,
He Peered Into The Sea, And Found The Richest,
Darkened Blue Hues Which He Placed Onto The Eyes

The Great Creator Looked In The Most Beautiful Garden,
And Plucked Two Rose Petals, The Palest Pinks,
Then Placed Them As Thin Lips Upon The Face,
He Selected The Golden-Brown Hues Of Wheat,
For The Skin Of Which The Soul Would Wear,
And He Found The Blackest Of The Night Skies,
And Molded It Into Hair

The Great Creator Sculpted The Housing From Granite,
Wrapping It Around The Soul,
He Then Put On The Finishing Touches And Sent The Soul To Earth,
Yet The Soul Did Not Feel At Home,
Therefor,
That Is Why The Great Creator Gave Him,
A Baby Girl